


Salt

by Donya



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Cravings, Fluff, FrostIron - Freeform, Humour, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 17:03:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1906935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Donya/pseuds/Donya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki and Tony's views on appropriate pregnancy cravings differ, just a bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Salt

Loki enjoyed his pregnancy. Finally everyone acknowledged the simple fact that he was the most important and his needs came first. Given carte blanche to do everything he wanted, Loki would mercilessly taunt Barton and Banner without any consequences, then emotionally blackmail Tony into staying with him the whole day and finally threaten Thor and the whole Asgard. When he was informed that he had crossed the line, a few faked tears and dry sobs solved the problem.

The Avenegers thought it was so easy to bribe Loki with food. They would offer him pickles and ice cream, colourful smoothies, chocolate and herbal tea, hoping that would please the fussing mummy-to-be. Loki refused all those inedible gifts, even chocolate did not interest him. He had no cravings yet but that did not stop him from forcing Tony to get him something to eat right before dawn. It was all ok, Tony had to get used to getting up at night anyway, he could not expect Loki to deal with an impatient newborn all by himself.

One morning, at the end of the first trimester, Loki woke up from a feverish dream, struck by a sudden thought- salt. He craved salty, savoury food; salted butter, cheese, salted peanuts. Breathing laboriously, he tried to clear his confused mind and determine what exactly he wanted to eat first. Mashed potatoes, generously salted, with melted butter and sour cream? Crackers and that smelly cheese that made him vomit just a week ago? No, Loki shook his head, _chips_. Golden, salty, deliciously fattening chips, served with a spicy chilli sauce. Yes. Yesss. Loki almost moaned, salivating at the tempting mental image of a large bowl of thin chips.

Tony was in the workshop, supposedly making the crib but in fact he just worked on the most annoying dad jokes. Fine, Loki was not in the mood to share food, even with the father of his child. Seated comfortably in front of the large tv, he devoured chips that somehow were more tasty than he remembered. Something was wrong, though. His mouth was dry, so much salt, he was so thirsty. The solution was easy- ice-cold raspberry-flavoured beer. That reminded Loki of crisps, so finally he was surrounded by bottles of beer, packs of salted crisps and the now-cold fries. Hell yeah. What would he want to watch? Perhaps those films about a saw and a grotesque child's toy.

Cold, sparkling drink and the thinnest, crunchy crisps, delightfully salty, eased Loki's unusual contempt for humanity. Why wasn't he informed earlier that only Midgardians possess the knowledge how to turn dull potatoes into that mouth-watering goodness called crisps? He pondered on that between outbursts of patronising laughter, those movies were not scary at all, Tony was so wrong. Loki watched fountains of fake blood while licking his fingers, his body craved as much salt as he could digest.

After the second film, Loki realised he hadn't thought of onion rings or hamburgers. The third instalment had the taste of fat, fried pork and crispy, wonderfully smelly snacks. There was only one beer left but Loki was too content to care. At that point, he even enjoyed the action and loudly encouraged the characters to run away.

'Oh my GOD!' A loud cry startled Loki but he could barely move, his limbs pleasantly heavy, his head spinning when he turned and saw two Starks... or one and a half, the half blurred.

'Ssstark, you ssscared me!' Loki complained, his slurred speech amused him and he giggled, then burped. Damn, the beer was good.

Tony did not seem to be in a good mood. He was glaring at Loki accusingly, visibly outraged by the sight before his eyes. What was that about, what, the mess? Empty bottles, wrinkled crisps packets, those awful tiny, half-transparent chips, all scattered on the floor and the sofa?

'What are you doing, Loki, my goodness!'

What followed was a rather distressing lecture, Loki frowned and pouted, the only thing his fogged brain understood was a complete ban on alcohol and junk food. That had to be a joke, an extremely unfunny one.

'Whaat are you tlkign bout?' Loki grinned at Tony, that was his secret weapon, no one could resist his charm. 'It's your child, a lil half-burger, half-whisky bottle. He or sh-shee needs to get used to alco-hihihi-hol.'

His reasoning did not impress Tony, who was genuinely concerned about the well-being of their unborn heir. To add insult to injury, he also criticised Loki's choice of entertainment, thrillers and pregnancy? Nuh-uh.

Loki decided to sulk for the rest of the day, who did that Stark thought he was? How many pregnancies has he endured? Loki was very experienced in that matter, he had Sleipnir, for hell's sake! During that pregnancy Loki ate whatever he wanted and the child was born perfectly fine.

All that anger melted away the moment Loki spotted the unmade bed, all of a sudden, very appealing. His little nap lasted for several hours and instead of feeling rested and fresh, Loki was sure he was dying. Waves of nausea grew stronger and he even tied his long hair in a messy bun, preparing himself for worshiping the porcelain god. On top of the upset stomach, he felt drowsy and weak. Wait. He knew a remedy for that. Coffee.

The coffee machine was one of the few kitchen appliances that Loki did not hiss at, that wonderful source of hot, aromatic coffee deserved all the praises Loki whispered at it tenderly. Nursing a steaming mug of dark, comforting drink, Loki allowed himself to relax. Half lidded eyes, tiny sips, familiar bitterness on his tongue, yes, that was what he needed.

'LOKI!'

Tony managed to frighten him the second time that day. Loki began to gather enough venom to loudly express his displeasure in such treatment but Stark was faster.

'Coffee? Don't you know too much caffeine increases the risk of miscarriage?'

How was Loki supposed to know that? And he was starting to suspect that Tony just wanted to drink all the coffee and booze without having to share with his pregnant god. That greedy Midgardian shit could use up the world's coffee beans supply before Loki's due day. That was so obvious.

'And don't overdose sodium! That's dangerous as well!'

Loki's screams alarmed the whole city when he kindly and in a respectful manner explained Tony that his priorities were wrong. Tony replied in an equally gentle way, suggesting that he would quit alcohol, fast food and coffee for the rest of Loki's pregnancy to share his pain and support him. Hmm. Seeing Tony suffer was tempting. Loki agreed without much deliberation. Anyway, Tony did not need to know about those secret chilli-cheese hot dogs or litres of salted caramel latte.

 

**Author's Note:**

> My mother during her first pregnancy casually made herself a vodka drink, after which her whole body stiffened for around 30 minutes. I have no idea if there's any correlation but she miscarried. So, alcohol and pregnancy. In other words, celebrate not being pregnant by a generous drink.
> 
> (I will leave "contentious social commentary in the notes at the chapter's end" when I feel like it, deal with it. If children's well-being is considered "contentious", then I don't even know what to say.)


End file.
